


There A Lone Figure Stands

by hystericalcherries



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hystericalcherries/pseuds/hystericalcherries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lone figure has made its way into the ruins of Lake-town after the Battle of the Five Armies, standing quietly before the corpse of the dragon that had set fire upon the heavens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There A Lone Figure Stands

Bard is scavenging for supplies when he spots him.

A lone figure that has made its way into the ruins of Lake-town, standing quietly before the corpse of the dragon that had set fire upon the heavens.

It is too small to be a man, or even a child of one. And at first, Bard thinks it is one of those dwarves, who, in their pride and greed, have caused so much death. But no, he realizes quickly, it is that strange creature that accompanied them, the hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins, his mind supplies him with the name, recounting the creature’s polite manners and soft voice that rose when frightened, which was often enough. A ‘Halfling’ his companions had added, born and breed in the rolling hills of the Shire, a place where one’s only worry was whether or not their round stomachs could fit through their equally round doors.

He pauses in his steps, wondering for not the first time why such a creature would wander so far away from his peaceful home, especially in favor of such companions and during such dire times.

Just as he is about to call out the hobbit’s name, to insist he come back to the camps for a well needed rest, a hand settles on his shoulder. Bard looks up to see the wizard towering over him, a simple gray hat settled on his head and a staff grasped in his other hand. Blue eyes, far older than the lines edged into his face suggest, pierce and pin him on the spot

The man does his best not to be intimidated by the tall figure. He sets his shoulders back and states, "He is the one who bested the dragon."

Gandalf's lips twitch ever so slightly, as if he wants to smile, but does not know how. "I do believe that was you."

"You and I both know that it is not I who is the hero of this tale." The wizard does not reply, instead, resumes his silent watch of the hobbit.

While they watch, the small creature falls to its knees, hands limp at its sides. Curly hair bounces as he bows his head, maybe in prayer. Bard wonders idly where hobbit prayers are sent and if they are as gentle as the creatures themselves.

Silently, Gandalf steps away from Bard and toward the hobbit, wrinkled hand gently settling on trembling shoulders. Even hunched as he is the wizard towers over the hobbit, who must crane his neck painfully high in order to even catch a glimpse of the other's face. Bard is able to see the tear stained face of the little Halfling as he meets the wizard's gaze and hear his quiet words, "Do you know, Gandalf, I think I would do it all over again."

The wizard gets down to one knee, hand grasping his staff for balance, and angles his head down.

"If given the chance, I would," he says it with fervor, eyes large and too bright. His fingers twitch every so often, as if they are itching to fiddle with something.  "Fool of a Took I am, I would do it again. I would do anything, anything, and all for those blasted dwarves."

It is not until the hobbit's shoulders slump with the weight of the world and start shaking with grief that Bard feels unworthy to look upon the scene. He has witnessed his fair share of grief, but this, this he feels, is too much. It is too personal and though he does not feel unwelcome, his presence is unnecessary.

So, shouldering some rope he had been eyeing before noticing the hobbit, he takes his leave. It is hard to be deaf to the quiet sobbing and occasionally babbling of unexpected dinner parties and rambunctious dwarves who wouldn't know respectable if it had whacked them in the face, but Bard tries his best. He tries his best to forget the hobbit and the misery of loss he represents.

Bard looks over his shoulder once, on instinct, and regrets it. The small creature is clutching at the wizards robes like a child, tears spilling down his cheeks with not an ounce of restraint. Gandalf himself looks impossibly old as he tries to comfort the hobbit.

He regrets it because he knows. Knows that he will forever remember seeing Bilbo Baggins, impossibly small in an impossibly large world, and think to himself that the world is cruel indeed.


End file.
